how high would you fly
knowing you must, eventually, fall?
could you resist the sirens’ call
convincing your flawed human brain
you might just resist it all?
could you throw yourself, knowingly, into the sky
just to see what the view is like up there
just to prove yourself mighty
for a moment?
or could you stay down on the ground
safe
but knowing you’d never know what the clouds taste like?
i have so many
Interests
so many
Desires
so many
Hopes and Dreams and Plans and Futures
and i get stuck thinking
about
how
i’ll probably never accomplish them all
simply because a human life
is only so long
(and i’m cursed with needing that full 7-8 hours of sleep to function)
but still…
if i keep spending all my time
Worrying
and
Mourning
something
not yet lost
i’ll never even accomplish one of my desires,
will i?
(this poem is post-titled:
Just Try To Get An Agent And/Or Release Your Podcast Already!)
kipventures 